Etched in Skin

3. Anytime Mrs Ebony

I roll my eyes at Opals text, responding to her with laughing emoji's and a few question marks. Dropping my phone down onto the dark blue sheets and head to the door. I hear the them ruffle as Summer sits on the bed in my spot, most likely to listen for crying from the baby. I peeked my head in to see if she was okay or awake. Still sound asleep as usual.

Making my way down through the living room, I grab a few plates that were in there and take them to the kitchen. My aunt is standing at the island, staring at seemingly nothing. I rub her shoulder as I pass her to the sink. Something about her makes me believe that she just wants to be left alone for a few. She still manages to look over her shoulder to me as I wash the plates.

"Something smells awesome, Jan." My eyes were focused on the glass I was scrubbing. I never got an answer so I paused what I was doing and looked around. There was a crock pot on the counter bubbling away at a stew maybe. "Airplane stew?"

She just nodded and smiled lightly at me, then got back to whatever it was that she was staring at. Like my mother she had really low point where she had no energy to do anything, but unlike my mother she got over it and did it anyway. She prefered to get over it then wallow in her own self pity.

I lift the lid to the pot and take a whiff, stirring it with the spoon that was sitting neatly on the side. The occasional oxtail bone slid out, almost being a graceful sea animal for tourists to enjoy. We called it airplane stew because the ox tail typically looked like olden day planes. My brother started the trend before I was born. It just stuck.

My eyes traveled back to my Aunt. Her fingers were tracing her wrist carefully. Her words were harsher than mine, and no one dared to even utter them around her.

As I pass, I press a kiss to her cheek and walk out the kitchen again. I wanted to grab something but I completely forgot. But as my mother had said, if it wasn't important you wouldn't of forgotten it.

I made my way back upstairs and stopped by my bedroom, peering in to see Amber sitting on the bed staring at the wall. I smile lightly and make my way over, picking her up to take her into Coltons room next door. I hear a car pulling up to the house and I step over to take a quick peek.

Pine and Colton. Back after dark as usual.

I can't help but roll my eyes at the thought, but carry on my way over to the bedroom with the rest of my study buddies. Summer gladly took the giggling child to bounce on her lap. Jax was nose deep in his note book. He looked up to me and raised an eyebrow.

"I need a Churchill quote about the cold war." He muttered and flicked through his book some more. I can't help but chuckle and rub his hair.

"If you go on with this nuclear arms race," the rehearsed words rolled off my tongue like it had thousands of times, "all you are going to do is make the rubble bounce." I raise my eyebrow as I flipped through my own book. "What's the name for those Greek..." I paused, unable to find the word I was looking for. Tribes? No... Kingdom? Not quite.

Summer looked over her shoulder to me and raised her eyebrow. "City-states? Come on Ly. We learnt this last year." She chuckled and put Amber down on the bed. "Poleis. P-o-l-e-i-s." She couldn't help but roll her eyes. Not in a bitchy way of course. In a way that pretty much screamed you should know better but I still love you. It was her signature move.

There was something great about the three of us studying. We could each help each other. Jax and I helped each other with history and Summer was our Classics girl. She didn't take history but she took Calculus so I could help her with that as she needed it. Which she barely does.

I had only just realised that Summer was wearing Colton's paintball jumper. It was covered in splashes of green, yellow and red. Jax's zip up hoodie was sitting in front of me, waiting to be taken. It was a nice mahogany colour with our school logo in white and his last name on the back in big bold letters. Sadly I wasn't cold. Or a fan of his cologne. Sorry babe.